


Kids in the kitchen listen to dancehall

by Emm77



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, M/M, Single Parent Harry Styles, coronavirus is part of it because it's part of reality, i don't know yet, it depends on if it serves the plot or not, it won't be romanticised tho, it's gonna be explicit either way, the plot is the fatherhood, there might or might not be a relationship, there might or might not be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23646148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emm77/pseuds/Emm77
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Character(s), Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s), Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s), Kendall Jenner/Harry Styles, Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles, Xander Ritz/Harry Styles, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

The harsh sunlight filtered through the sides of Harry's aviators, which was a rare occurrence for the usually grey London afternoons. Harry pulled his sun visor down as he smoothly veered the beast that was his Range Rover to the left. Nick's voice reverberated through his speakers and took Harry by surprise. It'd been a while since Nick had switched slots with Greg James on Radio 1, but Harry still couldn't get used to it. He surfed stations for a while, and eventually opted to just put on the playlist Mitch had shared with him the week before. Once 'Evenings of Damask' started playing, Harry stopped fidgeting with the audio controls.

Only three tracks later — and at this point, measuring time by tracks was convenient — he found himself in Emilia's familiar neighbourhood. The last time he saw her, a couple of months ago, it'd taken him twice as long to get to her house, but Harry supposed this was the new normal, or at least it would be for a while. _You don't simply snap back after a world pandemic_ , Harry thought to himself. And what a bitter thought that was, one he had repeated to himself over and over as he typed in the email with what his team was supposed to tweet from his account when he postponed his entire tour indefinitely.

He pulled up to the underground garage in Emilia's building and pressed the button on the remote she'd given him to open the gate. He really hoped she didn't want to fuck today because he just wasn't in the mood for it and he dreaded the argument that would surely ensue once he turned her down. Harry loved Emilia to bits but she could be insufferable when she didn't get her way.

Emilia was a long time friend. She was a handful of years older than him — a gap that used to feel gigantic but that had grown smaller and smaller the older he got. She'd gone to uni with Gemma, though she'd dropped out to pursue fashion design right before graduation, a career that had absolutely nothing to do with their degree. She and Gemma lived together for a little while and that's when Harry got to know her better. He'd always thought she was extremely hot, even when he was fifteen, she was eighteen and the sole thought of anything happening between them felt inappropriate (little did he know back then how inconsequential that age difference would be in the grand scheme of his romantic life). She had brown skin, borrowed from her half-Nigerian, half-Swedish father, blue-green eyes that came straight from her Italian mother, and the smallest lilt of a Geordie accent that he couldn't help but mock very often.

Harry and Emilia were crazy compatible platonically and crazy incompatible romantically (except when it came to sex), which was a perfect combination for a bomb friendship with benefits. Friendships with benefits were Harry's specialty. He had quickly decided that one-night-stands just weren't for him. Zayn had got them both caught once, and Harry learned his lesson. Zayn didn't, got himself caught half a dozen more times, and in the process solidified Harry's beliefs: one-night-stands weren't worth it. Harry also realised, quite early on, that he didn't really enjoy them much. The sex was never as good as it could be with someone he trusted and was acquainted to. He spent the entire time on edge and it was awkward, like going in blind and having to learn everything from scratch over and over.

Emilia was easygoing. She was a free spirit who didn't like ties of any kind. In all the time they'd known each other _biblically_ she had never, not once, been unavailable for a quick fuck. Harry, on the other hand, had gone long stretches of time having to artfully reject her flirty text messages, even when he didn't really want to. In his twenty-six years of life he had never cheated on anyone, no matter how much and how often Emilia challenged that.

He was single now, though, but the current state of world affairs was the opposite of an aphrodisiac. Maybe he was getting old, but despite not having had his dick wet in months, the idea of having hot sweaty sex was so unappealing to Harry that he grimaced just at the thought of it.

He parked his Range Rover in Emilia's spot, which she futilely kept since she didn't own a car herself, and before getting out of it, took his sunglasses off and threw them on the passenger's seat. He didn't need Emilia's ribbing on how uncool he was for wearing sunnies inside.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and started clearing out his notifications as he made his way towards the lifts, and then up to Emilia's floor. Once the lifts dinged and he pulled his head up he found Emilia leaning against her doorframe with her arms crossed over her stomach and looking at him expectantly.

Before he could say a word, she pointed a finger at him accusingly. "I've been waiting in this exact position for half an hour."

"Hi, Emilia. Nice to see you!" Harry said as he walked towards her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She grunted and pulled on his ear. "Get inside."

"Sure, but no sex," he said playfully, but in a way that would hopefully convey that he was serious.

Emilia snorted. "And who the fuck wants to have sex with you?" she said as she closed the door and ambled towards the kitchen. She was wearing a slightly oversized hoodie and yoga tights and was, as usual, barefoot.

Harry took his own shoes off and trailed after her. "Well, let's see. Last I checked, about ten thousand girls, maybe twenty thousand, I'd say the same amount of boys, and a good handful of the other genders." He chuckled when he noticed her rolling her eyes, but continued, "Also, you, generally. Has my dick lost its touch?"

"On the contrary," she mumbled. "Want some tea?"

"Sure, you know I love me some tea. Just make sure it's no milk, no sugar, no tea leaves, and some coffee beans."

Emilia put down the cup she'd stretched to grab and shook her head. "I didn't think it was possible but you're getting less and less funny with age."

"Why are you attacking me this much today?" He pinched her cheek as he helped her prepare the mugs.

"Sorry. Am I being too mean? I'm in such a funk lately." She poured the water of the electric kettle on her tea and his coffee. "Everything gets on my nerves and I'm super cranky."

"Are you feeling ill?" Harry asked. He grabbed both of their mugs and followed her to her small but airy living room. "Coronavirus?" he said around a laugh.

Emilia stretched her five-foot-two height on the sofa and cracked her neck. "I actually had to get tested. Did I tell you? One of the girls that works in HR got it and the entire floor was forced-tested. They swab the inside of your nose. Disgusting. On the flip side, I do not carry the bat disease."

Harry set Emilia's tea on the coffee table and took a sip from his mug as he sat on one of the armchairs. "I heard the other day that it actually comes from an armadillo."

"Normally, H, I would be endeared by your fun facts. Today is not one of those days." She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh.

"Is there anything I can do to help? As long as it doesn't involve orgasms..." He took another sip of his coffee and set it down.

She opened her eyes and laser-focused on his. She heaved another sigh. "Ugh..."

She was behaving so weirdly. Harry frowned. "What?"

"I just really do not want to have this conversation." She covered her face with her hands and turned on her side.

"You asked me to come?"

"I'm aware."

"Should I leave? I'm just so confused, Emilia."

She dropped her hands, balled her left one in a fist and rest hear head on it. "I'm sorry. There's just something we really need to talk about and I'm struggling to find the words."

"Oh," Harry said. "Are you seeing someone?"

Emilia furrowed her brows. "What? No. You know I don't do commitment. And why would I call you to tell you if I did?"

"I don't know! Just say whatever it is you need to say. Are you moving?"

"No..." Emilia stared at him as if he was dumb. "Why would that matter anyway? You're all over the world all the time. It'd be completely irrelevant to our relationship."

"Okay, should I keep guessing or are you gonna tell me what it is?"

Emilia bit her lip. "I'm pregnant."

Harry's entire body froze. He opened his mouth but no sound came of it.

"I haven't slept with anyone other than you in... ages," she said. "It's 100% yours. I don't know what happened. I guess the condom broke?"

Harry continued to silently stare at her.

"Are you gonna say anything?" Emilia asked. "Literally, anything?"

Harry swallowed thickly and considered his words carefully. "What do you want me to say?"

"H..."

"No, I'm not — I'm genuinely asking what you'd like to hear, and I'll say it."

Emilia looked at him with sad eyes. "I want you to say what you're thinking."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"H, please. I don't want you to say what I want to hear. I want you to tell me how this news makes you feel." She sat up and with the movement, Harry noticed what looked like the smallest hint of a bump, but he quickly averted his eyes back to hers. Not quickly enough for her not to notice, though. "Yeah, I started showing like, two weeks after finding out —" she said "— which was four weeks ago. It's really not much but it's super early to show, according to literally every blog I read, which is making things that much harder."

"You don't want to keep it," Harry said.

"Absolutely not," Emilia replied. "This is not what I want for my life, at all. Not ever. I'm turning thirty soon but I feel thirteen. I can't commit to a cat, H. I'm a mess, and not a mess that I want fixed. I'm not a mess that wants to be organised. I'm a mess that loves being a mess."

Harry licked his lips. "Okay... why didn't you..." he trailed off.

"Why didn't I get rid of it?" Emilia shrugged. "Because I — because it's yours."

He laughed nervously. "Um... what's that supposed to mean? Like, what are you gonna do?"

Emilia let out a deep breath. "Whatever you want me to do. That's why I'm asking."

"What?" Harry frowned.

"Do you want to have a baby? If you want to have a baby, I'll have your baby." Emilia grabbed her tea and took a sip. It was bound to be cold but she didn't show any signs of it.

"I don't —" Harry ran a hand down his face. "You shouldn't commit to a child forever if you don't want to be a mother, Emilia. Not for my sake and not for anyone's."

She set her mug down. "I'm not planning on it," she said. "I'm asking if _you_ want a baby. If you want to have a baby, I'll have it for you. After that, you're on your own."

That was one of the most loaded set of sentences Harry had ever received, and he'd received a lot of loaded sentences in his relatively short lifetime. He looked at his socked feet as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I know it's a lot," Emilia said. "I wish I could tell you to take your time deciding but I can't do that. I haven't gone to a physician but I did my maths and I'm about fourteen weeks along. I really don't wanna wait if I'm not gonna carry it to term. The sooner I end it the better, you know?"

Harry nodded absentmindedly as he continued to try to absorb the gravity of the situation.

"Harry, I wouldn't — I know this could be super tough for our friendship, but whatever you decide, I'm still here, you know? I just can't be a mum." She averted her eyes and started toying with a loose thread on her tights. "I'm not mentally — I _can't_. I mean, you know, right?" She looked up at him with a sad smile.

"I do," Harry said, because he did. He knew her entire sordid story. All the hurt, the abandonment, the trauma. She really couldn't.

"I know that whatever decision you make you'll end up resenting me." Emilia lifted and dropped a shoulder. "But I'm trying to make the best out of a terribly difficult situation. I could've just gotten rid of it and never tell you about it... but how?" She got up, walked up to him and sat sideways on his lap. "How would I face you again if I did that?" She cupped his face and kissed his nose. "I would've caved eventually. I would've caved and told you about it and you would've hated me. And I — the thought of that kills me. You're so precious to me."

Harry hugged her to his chest and kissed her curly hair. "Thank you for telling me. This isn't your fault."

"It's my fault that I can't just be a normal almost-thirty almost-broke woman. Who else in my place gets knocked up by a millionaire and instead of celebrating cries?" she mumbled against his shirt.

Harry laughed despite himself, then rested his head on top of hers sideways. "You're perfect."

"You're just saying that because you're biologically predisposed now that you know I'm carrying your spawn."

"Stop making me laugh," he said around a chuckle. "I'm trying to actually decide what to do with the entire rest of my life basically."

Emilia lifted her head and cupped his face again. "Who are you kidding, H? You want this baby so much."

Harry sighed and slumped his body backwards. "Fuck me. I really do."

Emilia smiled at him and pecked his lips. "Final decision?"

"I feel like I shouldn't decide this quickly..." Harry pursed his lips.

"Is there a chance in hell you're gonna suddenly have seconds thoughts and want me to get an abortion, H?" She put her hands on his shoulders. "Be honest with yourself."

He shook his head. "No."

"Okay, so that's settled." Emilia grabbed his hand and put it on her barely-there bump. "Feel your child, Styles. And no, there's no kicking going on. That's gas."

Harry let out a cackle. "Of course you ruined it," he said around a fit of laughter.

"I'm gonna _give birth_ because of you." She swatted his hand, which was still on her stomach. "I'm already throwing up three times a week and my right boob is twice as big as my left one..."

"Your right boob was always twice as big as your left one." Harry stuck his tongue out.

"You love my tits, wanker." She swatted his hand again.

"They're tits..." Harry said. "Of course I love them."

"Are you —" Emilia looked down at his crotch. "is that your dick? Are you seriously hard right now? All I did was _mention_ my tits."

"I haven't slept with anyone in three months, Emilia..."

"What happened with 'no sex' then? How do you go from that to this," she said, grabbing his cock through his trousers. Before Harry could reply, she squeezed. "Oh my god, Styles... are you into breeding? Does it get you off that I'm pregnant with your child?"

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. "Apparently?"

"You're seriously the strangest mid-twenties bloke I've ever met," Emilia said as she moved his leg to straddle him and worked on his zip.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, looking down as her hand disappeared inside his briefs.

"Are you clean? Have you ever done it without a condom?"


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Harry woke up at 9 AM, which was relatively early for his standards, at least ever since the quarantine kicked off. It took him a while to register that he'd spent the night at Emilia's. He yawned and looked at her sleeping form. She was completely naked and had kicked the sheets in her sleep. She was on her side with an arm covering her face and the other one shoved below her pillow. For the first time since she first told him about the pregnancy, he had an unobstructed and distractions-free view of her stomach. Her bump was barely there. If he didn't know she was pregnant he'd probably attributed it to the Thai food they'd shared the night before, but he knew better. That was his child and the thought of it made him dizzy.

Dizzy with so much. Amigonnabeagooddad, ohmygodmycareer, canistillgoontour, imhavingawholeasschild, whatismumgonnathink, gemmaisgonnakillbothofus, fuckinghellthefans, imgonnabeasinglefather, fuckinghellimfucked, imgonnafuckthiswholethingup... but the most pervasive one, the one that kept the other ones at bay: 'I want this so so so so much.'

And it scared him. It unleashed feelings he had no idea he had. He knew he loved children, he knew he'd want them one day, he knew he enjoyed being a godfather and babysitting, but this... this primal pride of knowing he'd created a child himself was... odd. He knew for a fact he was the least primal man... probably ever. The entire concept of manliness had always seemed ridiculous to him, so he couldn't explain this even to himself.

After a round of fantastic unprotected sex — which Harry had never had with a woman before — he and Emilia actually had a serious conversation about the entire situation. She told him that if absolutely necessary, he still had a couple of weeks to change his mind, which he thanked her for but dismissed immediately. She insisted on getting a DNA test for her own peace of mind, though she said she knew for a fact it was his child (and he believed her). They discussed the possibility of her moving into his house for the duration of her pregnancy, to which she reluctantly agreed. She repeated — about fourteen times — that she'd have absolutely no part in the raising of _his_ child (and he also believed her). She reassured him that she'd stay in his life for as long as he'd have her, and they'd tell _his_ child what her part had been in their conception when they were old enough. They briefly touched the subject of public perception, but quickly decided that it'd be better handled by professionals.

Harry offered buying Emilia a car; she declined saying it was too much. Harry offered _renting_ Emilia a car; she declined, finally admitting she didn't know how to drive. She'd also twisted his nipple when he laughed at her. Harry offered giving her a lift to work every day, since his house was nowhere near the tube; she eagerly accepted. Harry offered to buy her maternity clothes; she twisted his nipple again and said, "Of course you're doing that!" Harry tentatively asked her if she'd be willing not to sleep with anyone else until she gave birth; she agreed as long as he'd keep her _satisfied_. Emilia firmly told him to stop writing a rom com script in his head. That she was not Katherine fucking Heigl and they wouldn't slowly but surely fall in love during the length of her pregnancy and eventually decide to give it a try. Harry pretended to be offended instead of admitting that he'd thought it'd make a fantastic film premise. Emilia didn't believe him for a second.

They ordered food, watched Kid Gorgeous for the fiftieth time, had another round of fantastic unprotected sex, and fell asleep. And now here they were.

Harry felt grotty and smelly and he was about to piss himself, so he yawned and gathered enough willpower to trudge to the bathroom. Usually, he would hum or sing in the shower, but this time, he found himself daydreaming. It wasn't linear. He didn't imagine the pregnancy step by step, the birth, taking care of a growing baby. Instead, he saw flashes and images here and there, and tried to grasp the fact that it would all soon be his reality.

He brushed his teeth with Emilia's toothbrush, because at this point they had no boundaries, and stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist. Emilia was still in the exact same position he'd left her.

"Are you dead?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Can I still harvest my child?"

Emilia lifted her head and looked at him in disbelief. "You're aware I'm not a field and your child is not corn, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant, and that wasn't funny. You're losing your touch."

"This whole exchange was unfunny, H."

Harry went through her wardrobe and rummaged until he found a pair of boxers. "Didn't you say I'm not funny at all yesterday?" He looked down at his body once he'd put them on. "These aren't mine."

"Are they clean?" Emilia asked as she sat up on the bed.

He scrunched his nose. "I bloody hope so? Who else is bold enough to leave his boxers lying around?"

"Relax. I think it was a girl actually. They fit too well on your ass and too tight on your cock to be another man's." She frowned and put her hand on her crotch. "Is it possible that I'm still leaking from last night?"

"Probably," Harry said. "I don't understand how the boxers belonging to a girl is supposed to make me feel better. Though thanks for the ass compliment... I guess?"

"I feel like we're having three conversations at once and I'm already lost." Emilia got to her feet and scrunched her whole face in disgust. "Ugh, I'm definitely still leaking from last night. How do people _do_ this?"

Harry ran the towel through his hair. "Just use the shower head directly on your pussy for a little while. Not too long and watch that the water isn't hot. Gravity will do the rest."

"Do I wanna ask how you know so much about this?" she asked as she walked towards the bathroom.

He snickered. "You know exactly how I know so much about it."

...

A week later, after Emilia had settled in one of Harry's guest rooms and they'd done their first visit to the doctor and arranged for the DNA test, Harry was driving up north to visit his mum. He hadn't seen her since before quarantine forced him to stay in LA until flying back home felt safe.

He really wanted to tell her about the baby, and he would've decided to make the trip to tell her on his own regardless, but it turned out he didn't really have a choice, since she threatened to disown him if he didn't visit soon.

Once again, he marvelled at the empty roads. The trip that would usually take four hours shortened considerably thanks to it, and before he knew it, he was pulling up in front of his mum's driveway.

She must've heard his car's engine, because two seconds later, she was peaking out of the front door with a huge beaming smile.

"My smallest baby," she exclaimed as she opened her arms and walked towards him.

Harry laughed, both because her smile was infections and at how unintentionally ironic her choice of words was. He hugged her and kissed her hair. "Hi, mum."

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm actually hugging you. I missed you so much."

Harry pulled away and kissed her cheek. "Me too. I don't wanna be rude, but is that roast that I'm smelling? I only had an apple and coffee for breakfast and I think I'm dying of malnutrition already."

She shook her head and pushed him gently inside. "My little drama queen. How was the trip? Louise was telling me the roads are _empty_."

He sat at the kitchen table and pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly checking his notifications and locking it again. "They are. It's quite surreal. I wonder how long it's gonna last, though."

Anne made them both a plate and sat at the table. "Oh, I bet not long. I'm frankly surprised so many people are still abiding by the whole social distancing thing. How is London managing?"

"Central London is already a mess," Harry said as he took a bite. He moaned at the taste. "Fuck, I'd missed your roast, Mum."

Anne gave him another blinding smile. They had lunch with pleasant conversation, but at every turn, Harry just felt like blurting the news out. He knew he shouldn't, though. He knew it'd be better to bide his time and tell her when she wasn't chewing or holding a knife. He didn't think she'd have an adverse reaction, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Eventually, she made them both a coffee, grabbed a few pastries, and moved them both to the living room. She put on Tusk and asked him about Jeff, Glenne, Xander. About three songs into the album, Harry was itching to tell her. He didn't think he could hold it in anymore.

"What is it, baby?" Anne asked with a small grin.

"Hm?" Harry took the last sip of his coffee and set it on the side table.

"What's on your mind that's troubling you so much?"

Harry let out a little laugh. "I don't know if I'm that transparent or you just know me that well..."

"Little bit of both probably," Anne said. "Should I be worried?"

Harry hugged his knees to his chest and shook his head. "No. It's actually — well, I — I'm actually — it's not the best circumstances for this to happen? But I'm actually, like, proper happy about it..."

Anne let out a breath, her smile ever present. "What's the date?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "Huh?"

"What's the official date in which you're making me a grandma?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Fucking hell."

Anne titled her head and gave him a knowing smirk.

"Fifteenth of December," Harry said. "Give or take."

She let out a breath and pulled him into a hug. "I love you so much, Harry."

"I love you too, mum." Harry pulled away from the hug to wipe away at his wet eyes. "I really am so excited about this. It's not the perfect scenario, but I don't think I really care."

She caressed his hair and pushed it out of his forehead. "Paint me the scenario a little bit? Do you know her well, at least?"

"I do," Harry said. "You know her too, somewhat. Um, Emilia Nilsson?"

"Gemma's flatmate?" Anne asked. "Harry, _really_?"

"What?" Harry pouted. "They haven't been flatmates in years."

"Oh, that changes _everything_." 

"Mum..." Harry said in a whine. "I really don't see what the problem is with Emilia."

Anne sighed. "So... what is the situation? Are you dating? What's the plan of action?"

"Um, no, no, we aren't dating. We're kind of..." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "You know?"

"Yeah, I think I have an idea." Anne pursed her lips. "What's the co-parenting gonna look like? If you're not planning on getting together, then you really ought to sort things out with a solicitor before the baby comes, Harry. Don't take any chances."

Harry bit his lip. "Yeah, that's not gonna be an issue. I mean, I'm gonna phone Irving and ask him for a good family law solicitor, of course, but, um, there won't be co-parenting," Harry said. "Um, it's just — it's just gonna be me."

Anne blinked at him, clearly taken aback. "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Emilia isn't planning on — I mean, it's complicated to explain, but, um, basically, she — she asked me if I wanted the baby, because otherwise she wouldn't... go through with it? And, um, so, I said — I mean, you know me? I couldn't bear — obviously if she had decided to not — I wouldn't have opposed to it? But given the option..."

"Jesus, Harry..." Anne let out a shaky breath. "Are you _sure_? This is a lot, darling. This is the biggest decision of your life..."

"I'm 100% sure," Harry said. And even he was surprised with how firm his voice sounded.

"I can't believe my little baby is gonna be a dad," Anne said as she squeezed his cheeks.

"I'm twenty-six!" Harry huffed a laugh. "You had two when you were my age, and we turned out alright?"

She pulled back to look at him in the eyes properly. "Please, do not think for a second that I doubt of your capability as a father, Harry. You're going to be the best father in the world. I just know it. I'm not worried about that _in the slightest_. My only worry is that this is going to be hard and a lot of effort for you, and perhaps it's not exactly what you'd dreamed of and you might be a little disappointed."

"It's weird because you'd think I'd be?" Harry chewed on his lower lip. "But I'm actually not... not really? I'm too excited to be disappointed. I didn't realise I wanted this so bad before. Like, I knew I wanted it at some point, but I didn't — I physically _cannot wait_. I think about it all day long. I dream about it. I want to buy everything and read everything. I'm driving Emilia insane."

Anne gave him her warmest smile. "I am so proud of you, Harry," she said, though her face fell a little bit quite fast. "How are you coping with the knowledge that your child won't have a mother? That's going to be very — do you think there's a chance she'll change her mind?"

"No." Harry shrugged. "But it's okay. I mean, it's — I'll do my best to be enough?"

"Of course you'll be enough," Anne said. "That baby will have so much love — to last them a lifetime. It doesn't change the fact that there is a mother who won't be around. You have to prepare yourself mentally to deal with that, because that's a sense of abandonment nothing you can ever do will completely erase."

Harry gulped. He had purposefully avoided thinking about that. He looked at his hands, folded on top of his knees.

"Harry," Anne said to get his attention back on her. "You can mitigate it, and you _will_. I'm just — I'm trying to make you take notice of what you're getting yourself into. Having a child is always hard. Being a first time parent is even harder. And these particular circumstances will be a challenge. You'll rise above it, and I _know_ that. You just have to prepare yourself for it."

Harry nodded and gave her a wry smile.

Anne tilted her head. "I'm happy that you're excited, darling. Even if the circumstances aren't ideal, I'm glad this is something you want for your life. Parenthood is very fulfilling and the best thing that's ever happened to me, so I can only hope you experience the same type of joy."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up with a start to a clattering noise from his kitchen, which was odd because the kitchen was ages away from his bedroom. He blinked the sleep away and ran a hand down his face, then gathered enough willpower to actually get out of bed.

He yawned on his way to the bathroom and smiled to himself as he went through his morning routine punctuated by the soundtrack of varying noises coming from the kitchen.

Eventually, he ran out of things to do to stall his inevitable trip down the stairs and into the kitchen, and once he got there, he had to suppress a cackle. The contents of literally all his cupboards were strewn all over the floor. A pan was still spinning on itself in a corner, and Emilia was stretched as long as she could get trying to reach the last remaining item in the highest of the cupboards, to the left of the big white room.

"Boo," Harry said monotone.

Emilia jumped as if he had actually startled her and in the process managed to kick three large pots and a spare set of cutlery. "You asshole!" she screeched, grabbing the flannel from the worktop and throwing it at him. It slowly and unceremoniously fell on the floor a few inches away from her feet.

Harry laughed as he made his way towards her, carefully avoiding to step on the mess on the floor. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, still laughing.

"I'm looking for a wok. Do you not own a wok?" She was still clearly winded. "I have found the strangest utensils." She pointed at something in the far right corner of the room, to a spot next to the sink. "Like that. What the hell is that? But no wok? What?"

"That's an avocado slicer." Harry gave her a smile. "Why do you need a wok at 9 AM?"

"I'm trying to make quiche," Emilia said. "Where is your wok, Styles?"

"Why do you need a wok to make quiche?" Harry laughed even harder than before. "And why do you wanna make quiche at 9 in the morning?"

Emilia threw him a murderous look. "Just get me the fucking wok..."

"I don't have one. I burned it the last time I tried to make a stir fry." Harry surveyed the mess around them. "Cooking breakfast is gonna be interesting today." He looked at Emilia who was pouting at him. When she noticed him looking, she pouted even harder. He tilted his head and smiled at her. "Are you craving quiche? We can order it?"

"No one is serving quiche yet. I've been trying since 7." She pouted again.

"Okay..." Harry pinched her cheek. "Do we have the ingredients? We can make it on a pan?"

They spent the rest of the morning tidying up the mess of the kitchen and cooking quiche for Emilia. By the time they were finished, it was close enough to brunch time and Harry was hungry enough to actually share the quiche with her.

The last couple of weeks had been... strange. It was as if both of them had made a silent agreement to not acknowledge just how much their lives were going to change, how much their relationship would change, how weird the entire situation was, how out of character their interactions were.

In order to maintain this semblance of alleged normalcy, Harry found himself dodging every attempt of contact by family, friends and co-workers. He knew they knew something was afoot. He also knew it wouldn't be long until he found himself with no other choice but to confront them, particularly Gemma and Jeff.

At least Jeff was an ocean away and unable to chase him down, forced to blow up his phone and email inbox. Gemma, on the other hand, was just a fifteen-minute drive away and the only thing keeping her at bay was her lack of a driving licence and the current fear of public transportation. Harry knew, though, that soon he'd need to find his courage, because she would eventually catch a lift with someone. Anyone. The mailman, if she must.

Harry and Emilia were doing the washing up, still in what was basically their pyjamas, when the doorbell started ringing. Usually, when fans knew he was in the country, he didn't pay it any mind, as they would occasionally try to goad him out by ringing it. But this time around, he had managed to conceal his transatlantic trip quite well and he hadn't been spotted yet.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Emilia asked.

Harry wiped his wet hands with a flannel. "No," he said. "It might be a fan? I don't think they know I'm back yet, but maybe they saw movement around the house?"

Before he could offer her to check the CCTV cameras, the doorbell went off again, and so did his phone. It was Kid, and Harry felt his blood drain.

"Garyyyyyyyy!" Kid screamed from the front door. "Gaaaa-ryyyyyy!"

"Who the fuck is Gary?" Emilia asked.

"Me. My friends think they're funny," Harry said. "I don't know why, but my friend slash producer is apparently at the front door, so... yeah. That's happening."

Emilia nodded and narrowed her eyes. "Okay..."

"Gary do you want us to cause a scene?!" Kid screamed from outside once again.

All the while, Harry's phone kept ringing. "Kid, for Christ's sake stop yelling," he said as he picked up. "I'll be there in a second." He hung up before Kid could get a word in, then fixed his eyes on Emilia. "What do you want me to do?"

"About what, Gary?" She grinned and winked.

"Oh, fuck off," he said around a chuckle. "Do you wanna stay around and meet him? Do you wanna go upstairs until I get rid of him? Might be a while. He's a bit of a nuisance."

"How about both? I'll say hello, and then go do my nails upstairs."

Harry took a deep breath. "Okay." He nodded, mostly for self-assurance. "Okay."

"Do you not want me to meet him?" She narrowed her eyes again.

"No, that's not — He's very nosy, and I usually tell him everything, so he's gonna be annoying." Harry sighed. "I mean, I was gonna have to have this conversation eventually. I just wish I was more mentally ready, you know?"

"I can go upstairs, then. It's fine —" She was interrupted by his phone going off again.

This time, when Harry picked up, Kid started yelling. "Listen, mate, your AWOL act is over. Open the door or I'll kick it down jujitsu style. I don't give a fuck. If I have to listen to Jeff's nagging one more time I might lose my bloody mind."

"I said I'll —"

"Open the bloody door, Styles. What the fuck? Unless you were in the middle of taking a shit, I don't understand what's taking you this long."

"It's been two minutes!"

"Exactly! Long enough for you to open the door four times already." Kid huffed. "I'm about to start breakdancing in the middle of the pavement. Do you want your name in the cover of The Sun? 'Crazy Harry Styles collaborator disrupts Hampstead Heath's quietness. Drug scandal?'" Kid recited in an obnoxious South London accent.

"Okay, I'll just go upstairs," Emilia said with a frightened look in her eyes, having undoubtedly overheard Kid's ridiculous threats.

"Sorry," Harry mouthed at her, then he started walking towards the door. "You truly are the most obnoxious person I know," he said to the phone receiver.

When he opened the door, Kid threw himself at him. "I'm the love of your life. Shut up," he said.

Harry put his mobile back in his hoodie's pocket and patted Kid on the back lazily. "I really bloody hope you don't have coronavirus." He then saw Mitch, standing awkwardly to the side. "Mitchell!" He shouted, then ambled towards him and threw his arms around his shoulders. He looked back at Kid and stuck his tongue out. " _This_ is the love of my life," he said.

He heard Mitch's chuckle as he saw Kid giving him the finger.

"You're causing a scene. How embarrassing," Kid said.

Harry then put an arm around each of their waists and guided them inside. He closed the door behind them and pointed in the direction of the living room. "Just sit down. Do you want tea or something?"

"No, I want lunch," Kid said as he took his shoes off and placed them near the front entrance. "And for you to explain what the hell's been going on."

Harry waited until both of them had taken their coats and shoes off and then motioned for them to go to the kitchen. "I already ate, but there's quiche leftovers if you want."

"Please," Mitch said, taking a seat on the kitchen's island. "Beer? Or white wine? Anything with alcohol. I had to pick up Kid and drive forty minutes with him. I need a drink."

"Less bullying, please." Kid flicked Mitch's ear as he sat down next to him. "Quiche! And white wine! And Styles explaining himself!"

Harry made them both a plate and sat with them as they ate while they all ribbed each other back and forth. He knew he was stalling the inevitable and that food would only mildly distract them for so long, but he was trying to find the words to tell them the news and he couldn't think of anything. Sure enough, as soon as both of their plates were cleared and their cups of wine empty, Kid turned towards him and raised his eyebrows.

"So," he said. "Whaddup?"

"Did you come all the way here to interrogate me?" Harry asked. "We're still in the middle of a pandemic."

"No, we came here to make quarantine music," Kid said. "We talked about this before you left LA. You said you'd contact us once you got here and we'd start doing some demos in the Erskine studio, then pulled a disappearing act and stopped replying to everyone's messages. So, now we're here for both. Answers and music."

Harry glanced at Mitch, trying to see if he could find an accomplice in him, but Mitch was also looking at him expectantly. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. Let's move to the studio, then." When neither Kid nor Mitch got up, he rolled his eyes. "I'll give you your answers. I promise. I just wanna get high first because what I'm about to tell you is big and I'm gonna need it. I've got a stash there."

At the mention of weed, both Kid and Mitch shot up and sprinted in the direction of the studio. If Harry didn't know for a fact they were both in their mid-thirties, he'd wonder if they were teenagers.

Once they were all settled and the joint was lit, Harry knew this was it. There was no more small talk, no more excuses. Telling his mother had been hard enough, but she was just one person and he could trust she wouldn't tell anyone else. Telling Kid meant basically telling everyone. It was ripping off the plaster in the purest form of the metaphor.

And here he was, he had to tell two of his closest friends the most important news he would ever tell them, and he had no idea how to articulate it.

"I swear this is like edging," Kid told Mitch. "He's doing it on purpose at this point."

"Is it bad? Is everyone okay?" Mitch asked.

"It's not bad," Harry said. "Everyone's okay. That I know of, at least."

"What is it then?" Mitch said after taking another hit. He passed Harry the blunt.

"Are you pregnant?" Kid laughed.

Harry inhaled deeply and let out the smoke slowly. He very rarely smoked weed. His allergies always acted up and weed made him sleepy. He passed Kid the joint and took a deep breath. "Basically," he said.

Harry looked from Kid, who didn't seem to understand what he'd just said, to Mitch, whose jaw had dropped. He shrugged one shoulder.

"Holy fuck," Mitch said.

"Wait, what?" Kid between both of them with a frown. "What did I miss? What?"

"Who did you knock up?" Mitch asked.

"You don't know her." Harry pursed his lips. "A friend, though. Not, like, a random girl."

"Holy shit, what?" Kid put the blunt down and sat up on the loveseat, across from the sofa Harry and Mitch were sat on. "Are you fucking with me now?"

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, it's — I'm gonna be a dad."

"Oh, wow," Kid said. "Oh... wow..."

"But, like, how?" Mitch asked. "I mean —" he rolled his eyes to himself "— I know _how_. I just mean... you're so fucking careful all the fucking time. What happened? Who is she?"

"I was still careful." Harry shrugged again. "I mean, we all know this is a possibility every time we get laid, right? So, well, it happened. And I told you, she's a friend. I've known her since I was fifteen. She's bloody ace. I'm really happy. In fact, she gave the option of not going through with it. It's just... very overwhelming."

Mitch gave him a side-hug and pulled him towards his chest. "Congratulations, H," he said, kissing his hair. "This is great news. Incredible. I'm really happy for you, man."

"Yeah," Kid said as he kicked Harry's shin. "I think this was the last thing I was expecting, but if you're happy then that's all that matters. You're gonna be the best dad ever. I love you, baby."

Harry chuckled and kissed Mitch's cheek. "I love both of you. Thank you." He sat upright and stretched his arms above his head. "I just — I have to basically figure out my entire life now, you know? Jeff is so relentless. He has so many suggestions for Watermelon Sugar and I completely understand that he needs my approval for stuff, but my head is just not in there. I don't — I'm glad the song and the album are doing so well. I'm so happy. A couple of months ago I would've been all over this, but right now it's so... unimportant. I'm gonna have a child..."

"Yeah," Kid said, nodding absentmindedly. "Yeah, I get it, mate. Do you even want to do a session today or is your head too far gone? We can reschedule. I'm gonna stay in England for a couple more months. Jenny wants to be near family and it's not like the kids have school or anything in the foreseeable future."

"No, I think I wanna do something," Harry said. "I think it's gonna help me. I just don't wanna think business. Music is fine. Music isn't business."

"Okay, bossman," Mitch said. "Are we gonna write a lullaby, then?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe? I should check on Emilia first. This could go on for long and I didn't tell her we'd be doing a writing session."

"Emilia?" Kid asked.

"Babymama, I assume," Mitch said as he got up to pick up one of Harry's acoustic guitars that was hanging from the wall. "Is she living here, then? Are you gonna try it out family style?" He sat back down on the sofa and started tuning it in.

"No — I mean... it's complicated." Harry sighed. "She's here because it's just more convenient at the moment."

Kid squinted at him. "You do look well fucked, though, now that I'm paying attention."

"Oh, shut the fuck up." Harry laughed and covered his face with his hands. "Like I said, it's _convenient_."

Mitch sniggered and started strumming the chords to 'I Just Had Sex' by The Lonely Island.

"Riiiiiight", Kid said around a laugh. "So convenient."

"We really aren't together, and we're not gonna be," Harry said, attempting to gain back a semblance of sobriety. Hard task to accomplish with three very baked grown men who rarely smoked. "Don't laugh. I'm being serious. She's not even — like..." He huffed. "It's not like you're picturing it at all. I'm gonna be a single dad, okay? Like, as soon as the baby pops up, I'm on my own."

The entire room went silent at that. Both Kid and Mitch looked at him as if he'd grown a second head but didn't utter a word.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Like, it's _fine_. I'm fine with it. She told me at the same time she gave me the news and gave me the option of what to do. I agreed under these conditions and it's fine. It's just — It's gonna be hard and it's gonna be a mess to deal with it publicly and I truly, honestly, have no fucking idea how I'm gonna manage, you know? It's a complete clusterfuck and the idea of even telling Jeff about it scares me because I usually turn to him to fix any mess I get into, but this time around I don't think he's gonna have an answer. And I'm scared, okay? And telling you is almost like telling him, because I _know_ he knows you're here, and he's gonna ask you what's going on and what are you gonna say? I can't ask you to cover for me. And like, what's even the point of it? I have to confront this at one point. I can't push it over forever because come December I'm gonna have a child and if I can't bloody hide buying groceries from the press. How am I gonna hide a human being? Or why would I have to? Like, act like becoming a father is this shameful thing that I should cover up, when it's not. Because I'm proud and I'm happy, you know?"

He said his entire spontaneous speech while looking at his feet, and towards the end, he didn't realise it at first, but he started crying. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and swallowed thickly. When neither of his friends said anything, he looked up, and found them at a loss for words. He knew that feeling well.

"I truly am happy. If I didn't have the threat of the whole thing becoming public hanging over my head the entire time I would actually be able to enjoy it so much more." He sighed again. "But, yeah, it's constantly in the back of my mind. Because this isn't just about me anymore. It isn't even about Emilia either. Yeah, it would suck if her pregnancy and her decision, which I respect one hundred percent, were exposed, because I don't want her to have to deal with that either. But at the end of the day she's an adult, and she made the conscious decision to risk this. She's seen every scandal I've ever been a part of. She knows what could happen. But my baby... they're not choosing this, you know? And this could be what defines their entire life. Forever. This story being made salacious and controversial could chase them forever. I need to be careful and I need to be smart. I can't just wing it." He bit his lip and smiled sadly. "But the clock is ticking. Emilia is living with me. She's started to show already. We have doctor's appointments. I drive her to work whenever she has to go to her office. Any neighbour could speak up at any time, and then I'm done for."

"Listen, mate," Kid said, adopting the tone he used whenever he had something wise to say. It wasn't often, but it meant business every time. "I understand you're paranoid and you have every right to, but I promise you whatever you're imagining is the worst case scenario, just isn't. You have a great team working for you and you've turned yourself around already. You don't have to fight that horrible image anymore. Everyone knows you as the great guy you are now." He got up and sat next to Harry. He put his arm around his shoulder and stroked his arm. "You're gonna find a way to make everyone see this as the incredible news it is, okay? Your fans will be happy for you. Everyone will be happy for you. And yeah, it's gonna suck to take all the extra measures to take care of your baby's privacy, but you've become so good at it already, right?"

Kid looked at Mitch for backup, and Mitch nodded eagerly.

"Yeah," Mitch said. "Don't underestimate Jeff, or the rest of the team. Or yourself, for that matter. Obviously you're freaking out now." He patted Harry's thigh, right above his knee. "It's normal, I'm sure. But you're gonna be fine, man. Just tell Jeff. Let him handle it. Take all this weight off your shoulders and focus on the fact that you're about to become a dad. You shouldn't miss out on the positive aspects of this experience. You're never gonna have your first child again."

Harry took a deep breath and leaned backwards, resting his head on the back of the sofa and looking at the ceiling. "I'm scared shitless," he said. "I'm excited and I'm scared. I go back and forth between those emotions all day every day. Sometimes both at the same time. And I have to constantly keep myself in check because I don't want to transmit that to Emilia."

"Well, that's not healthy, mate." Kid pinched his arm. "I'm sure she can handle it and she'd want you to tell her how you're feeling. You can't bottle it all up for six months. You're gonna go insane."

"Who is she, anyway?" Mitch asked. "Like, is she an old friend from school, or...? Did she ever come to a concert?"

"That's another thing." Harry started toying with the rings on his fingers. "She's never come to a concert... She's not that kind of friend. We're like... fuckbuddies, so to speak? We have a friendship where we get coffee together without it turning sexual and stuff, but we aren't that close. It's more about the sex, if I'm honest. It's been that way every time I'm single for like, years now."

Kid shot him a confused look. "Okay?" he said. "And? So, she's like Kendall, Xander, Grimmy, that girl from New York with the locs, that guy from SoulCycle with the knuckles tattoo... You collect those. I don't get what's the problem with it."

"To be fair, he does more than sleep with Kendall, Xander and Nick," Mitch told Kid. "He is quite close to them."

"Barely," Kid said, dodging Harry's punch in the gut. "No violence! That's not becoming of a father-to-be. You're a slag. Own it."

Harry pouted at him. "Don't call me that. You know I've calmed down in the past few years. The problem is that she's friend's with Gemma, okay? And Gemma has no idea I've been shagging one of her friends since I was nineteen."

Both Kid and Mitch cracked up at that, and Harry had to try hard to keep a straight face. He failed miserably, of course.

"Stop it!" He said around an involuntary smile. "How the fuck do I tell her? She's gonna kill me."

"Dude, you're on your own," Mitch said. "How many of her friends have you fucked?"

"Every single one of them," Kid said. He wasn't quick enough to dodge Harry's next punch. "Ow, you heathen. Did I lie?"

"Yes." Harry pouted again. "I truly haven't slept around as much as you want to believe. I'm positive both of you have had sex with more people than me."

"And?" Mitch laughed. "We were both slags. As if that's saying something."

"I hate you," Harry got up and stretched his legs. "I'm gonna go check on the woman that's carrying my child and tell her we'll be here for a while. Maybe she'll come down and meet you. Can you tune me the Ovation? I have something in mind when I get back, I think. I quite like that lullaby idea."


End file.
